Forever and a Day
by Sandylee007
Summary: What if instead of his legs, the bullet took away Charles' memories and powers? Erik stays by his side out of guilt, torn between bringing back the man he once loved and starting over on his own terms. With everything wiped blank, what kind of a world will Erik lead Charles into? And what happens when lost pieces start to come together? SLASH Cherik
1. Prologue

A/N: I warned a couple of you that this story would be coming. (grins sheepishly) 'Couldn't resist.

WARNINGS: SLASH, some quite adult themes, language, violence… Uh, anyone out there…?

DISCLAIMER: If I'd own a thing the movie would've ended VERY differently. (pouts)

Alright, guys… (gulps) This is always a really nerver wrecking part so I'll get to it. Enjoy?

* * *

**_Forever and a Day_**

* * *

Prologue

* * *

Since he was a little boy Erik Lensherr swore on revenge. From the day his mother was killed he dreamt of the day when he'd be strong enough to avenge her unjustified death. In his mind that was the end of his agony, even if it meant that he was dead in the end.

If he'd known just who would end up paying the price of his blind rage he might not have been so arrogant in his faith.

As soon as Erik sent the coin towards Sebastian Shaw's forehead a part of him knew that things would never, ever be quite the same again. He couldn't hear the screams inside of his head because of that ridiculous, awful helmet but that didn't stop him from feeling them deep inside of his chest. That's why, although his heart rejoiced, a part of him wanted to cry.

Erik refused to believe that he was making a mistake. Shaw was far too dangerous to be left alive – that monster had destroyed too many lives and wouldn't stop before pulling his last breath. But still…

_I'm sorry about this, Charles. For making you a part of this – for hurting you. But he needs to be stopped, do you understand?_

The coin was fast on its way. Soon it'd all be over. One way or the other he'd finally gain the peace he'd been so desperate find.

_This is the only way. Just let me show you._

And then it really was over. Shaw's eyes were glazed over. The coin fell with a sickening little jingle, stained with red. Charles hadn't let go before it was too late. Erik stood there, staring at his revenge with dazed eyes. Still alive, unlike he'd perhaps dared to hope.

Was it really over? After all these years… He got what he wanted.

Slowly, slowly the tiniest of smiles appeared to Erik's face. For just a fleeting moment.

Yes. It was over, all over. And now… Now he was about to get what he'd wanted since the moment he was saved from the raging depths.

From the moment Erik looked into Charles' eyes as he floated out of the submarine, though, he knew that it wouldn't be quite as easy as his foolish mind had imagined.

He'd crossed a line. Forced Charles into crossing one. The humans were about to cross a line, too. And nothing would ever be the same again. What Erik had envisioned as a fresh start turned into pure chaos. In a flash _everything_ went wrong.

People who were supposed to be allies abandoned them to die.

Missiles approached them, like some sort of a macabre meteor shower.

Charles begged and pleaded, tried to reason with him in a situation where Erik could see absolutely no sense.

All of a sudden Charles was attacking _him_, when all fighting amongst their own kind should've been over and done with. Trying to take off his helmet. Nothing had ever felt as wrong as his fist meeting the telepath's face. His own damn hand harming the one person he'd never, ever wanted to hurt.

The worst, however, was yet to come. Because it was Moira's turn to make a unforgivable mistake. She pointed a gun, against someone who could make metal respond with nothing more than a flick of his wrists. Erik brushed off the bullets like they'd been dust.

The last fired bullet flew away carelessly, easily. What Erik had failed to take into account was what was happening behind him. He'd failed to notice that he was no longer the only one in the line of open fire.

The first thing he noticed was the look of sheer terror on Moira's face, how the gun slipped from her trembling fingers like it'd burned. Then he heard the soft, sigh like thud. And a scream that chilled his blood. Raven's scream.

"CHARLES!"

From that moment everything seemed to happen in a slowed motion although it couldn't take longer than seconds. Erik spun around, his eyes wide and his heart stilling while blood turned to ice in his veins. What he faced made it extremely difficult to hold back a howl of his own.

It appeared that the bullet had found a unwanted target on its way. Charles lay on the ground, chillingly still and eyes closed. Blood was seeping quickly, staining brown hair and unhealthily pale skin. With Charles lay on his stomach it was impossible to tell if the telepath was even breathing. If…

Erik's feet were much faster than his head. Before he realized that he was moving he'd made his way to Charles. Finally giving in to the desire to fall down he slumped to the sand, his trembling hand searching, hesitating…

There was a breath of warm air from Charles' nose. That was a good sign. Right?

"Charles?" No response. No sign of awareness. Erik swallowed, unable to erase the bitter taste sitting in his mouth. His eyes were stinging and aching to a point where he was sure that he'd go mad. He tossed away the helmet. Still nothing. "Charles, can you hear me? Open your eyes."

Charles didn't even flinch, gave no sign of awareness. There was far too much blood to Erik's liking, no matter how hard he tried to tell himself that headwounds tend to bleed a lot regardless of the severity. He also didn't like the expression of pain on the telepath's face.

Suddenly there was movement everywhere around him. The kids were dashing towards them, frantic looks on their faces. Moira was also sneaking closer, quietly and carefully as a thief. The mere sight of her made Erik see red.

His hand moved easily. There was a flash of dark satisfaction when the tightening around Moira's throat sent her to her knees, choking. "You…", he growled like a deranged wild beast. "You did this."

"No, she didn't." For a moment Erik was, against all reason, sure that it was Charles who spoke. Instead he found Hank's face. Worry and rage flickered in the blue furred mutant's eyes. "Control yourself for just this once, Erik. Let her go. Let her go so we can help Charles."

Hearing the telepath's name seemed to clear Erik's head a little bit. Slowly, reluctantly, his hold on Moira's dog tags loosened, allowing her to breathe properly once more. Their eyes met, full of threat. At the moment only one thing was keeping them from tearing each other to pieces.

Discovering that the most acute danger was over the kids were moving again. The amount of chaos and noise overwhelmed Erik. Their voices and eyes were full of sheer terror. Were those tears filling Raven's wide eyes?

At the moment there was only one person who would've been able to calm them down.

Erik couldn't really focus on anything until he felt movement. Looking down with alarm and perhaps even fool's hope he discovered that Charles wasn't the one who moved. Hank's far from steady yet determined hands were already working cautiously on the telepath's head. Cold spread through Erik's veins when he saw the wound. To him it looked like a gaping hole that was sneering up at him. "Well?" he barked.

The look in Hank's eyes wasn't exactly promising. "Head wounds are tricky, but… I think that it's not as bad as it looks." The scientist swallowed loudly. "We've gotta stop the bleeding, though. Quickly."

Out of nowhere a piece of fabric appeared, pressed tightly against the bleeding spot. Looking up Erik found the absolutely last face he would've wanted to see near the fallen telepath. "We need to get him to a hospital", Moira choked out. Erik was fairly sure that her husky, choked tone had nothing to do with his ealier treatment.

His eyes were steel and venom upon focusing on her once more, the look sweeping at her like a whip. "Are you out of your mind? The government… It was just about to kill us all, and without a doubt they'll try it again as soon as they can. If we'd take him to the hospital they'd find him. Maybe find us all."

Moira's jawline tightened, a dark look appearing into her eyes. "Then what are you proposing?" she inquired gruffly.

Erik's hold on Charles' limp form tightened while his eyes flew towards Azazel, who was observing the whole commotion with a mild degree of curiosity. His eyes narrowed while a sharp piece of metal appeared to the teleporter's throat. "Your leader is dead. Unless you desire to join him get us away from here,_ now_. Try anything and I'll make sure that it's the last thing you do." He was sure that the red skinned mutant had seen enough to take his word seriously.

Azazel shrugged, ignoring the looks of mistrust and alarm from his companions. "Whyever not? Who knows… This could be the beginning of a very interesting companionship."

Erik decided not to dignify the other with a response. Instead he gave coordinates, just far enough from the mansion to make it safe, constantly careful not to let the piece of metal slip too far. The last thing he needed was all of them being abandoned to the cursed beach.

They began to gather together, none of them trusting and few willing but knowing that it was the only choice. On the way up Hank reached out towards Charles. Seeing the daggers Erik glared the blue furred mutant growled with frustration. "I'd be able to carry him more smoothly", the younger mutant tried to reason, his voice an octave too high.

Erik refused to relent. He shook his head, tightening his hold on Charles. There was no way in hell he'd let go at that very moment.

Hank sighed and swallowed, looking so young and terrified that it stung Erik. If he'd had even a single word of comfort… "Fine. Just… Just keep pressure on the wound, okay? Try to keep him steady."

Lifting Charles up wasn't much of a struggle. Doing so while continuing to keep pressure on the wound proved to be much more so. Erik shivered with alarm when all of a sudden a blue hand appeared to help, pressed against the professor's head. Raven's eyes were full of pain and guilt when he met them.

If a flash all the kids were there, gathering around them as though trying to shield their teacher. Or perhaps they were simply seeking comfort from one another. Usually such a close proximity would've bothered Erik but as it was there was only one person he managed to pay attention to.

Exactly five seconds before they were taken away from what'd turned into a nightmare Erik looked at Charles' unconscious, blood stained face. Tears filled his eyes but wouldn't spill. Perhaps he'd done too much crying during his life.

_Can you hear me, Charles? At all? Because… I'm sorry. I'm so sorry._

He closed his eyes and pulled Charles closer, held on with all his might. Just like he did when they crashed, what felt like ages ago. Protecting when it was too late.

_I'm sorry._

There was no whisper. No soothing, warm brush of a familiar mind against his. No comfort.

Erik hadn't felt as utterly alone, cold and lost since the moment his mother died.

* * *

TBC OR NOT?

* * *

A/N: Oh dear… Poor Erik. (And Charles, too, of course.) (winces) And things are bound to get messier from here.

So… How was that in your book, guys? Any good, at all? Or carbage material? PLEASE, let me know! It'd totally make my breezy day brighter.

In any case, thank you so much for reading! Take care!


	2. Tabula Rasa

A/N: Thought that I wouldn't update today, didn't you? (grins) Well, folks, here I am! Yay?

First of, thank you so much for you reviews and listings thus far! (HUGS) Your love means the world, you know? So thank you!

Awkay… Because if I stall any further I may chicked out, let's get going. I REALLY hope that you'll enjoy the ride!

* * *

Tabula Rasa

* * *

The first thing he felt upon waking up was a headache pummeling his skull. A horrendous headache and warmth. He groaned, would've moved if every single part of his body hadn't felt impossibly heavy.

What in the world…?

Apparently he wasn't alone. There was a sound he couldn't identify until a quiet, hoarse voice whispered. "Charles?"

Charles…? That was his name, wasn't it? It felt familiar, at least, somehow.

He took a deep breath, bracing himself, then struggled his eyes halfway open. At first he couldn't see anything but blur and a figure that could've been a man. He blinked twice and slowly focus began to form.

The man looking back at him was… very attractive, to say the least. Slowly becoming aware of the hand holding his he concluded that it must've touched him before. (His skin knew.) What caught his attention, however, were his companion's eyes. They were so full of fire and love that it baffled him. Quite obviously he meant a lot to this man who oozed guilt, sadness, affection and rage. It saddened and startled him.

Because as far as he – Charles, right? – was concerned this was when they met for the very first time.

"Charles?" The man appeared worried, now. The hold on his hand tightened until it hurt. "Are you in pain?" The frown deepened when he barely responded. "What's wrong?"

Charles swallowed, staring into the man's eyes long and hard. Tried, tried and tried, but couldn't quite catch it. "I… I'm so sorry, but… Who are you?"

The other man reacted like someone who'd just been harmed physically. It took a mighty while before the words came out. "You… don't remember? At all?"

Charles shook his head, feeling guilty and torn. He wanted to remember, very much, but… "I'm sorry." What was it with him repeating that? He then frowned, rubbing his aching head with one hand. "What's… going on? What happened to my head?" His eyes traveled towards the other, obviously shocked man. It was almost there, on the tip of his tongue… His mind attempted to reach out – towards what he didn't know – but all he slammed into was black. "And who are you? Because… I feel like I need to know you."

The stranger shuddered. Slowly, probably free of the other's will, the hand let go. Fingers twitched with desire to hold on but didn't quite reach out anymore. "I'm Erik. We've been… friends, for a while." Somehow it sounded like there was hell a lot more to it. Charles blamed himself on being a coward for letting this Erik get away with the flimsy explanation. "We have this… group. You'll meet them as soon as you're well enough. When you got hurt we were on a beach in Cuba to complete a mission."

Charles just had to chuckle briefly at that, despite the fact that the whole situation was overwhelming and terrifying. You either laugh or cry, he supposed. "That… sounds like some sort of agent stuff", he pointed out.

He didn't know what to make of the look that appeared to Erik's face. Something screamed at him that there were huge, important chunks of the full truth still missing for him. Things he should've known.

At the moment digging further into his head was not an option, though. The headache was intensifying with each ticking second, making him wonder if his skull was actually going to crack any given moment. Despite the best of resistance a groan of pain escaped.

Erik was instantly alerted. The air felt much colder when the man stood up and stepped further. "I'm going to get Hank, alright? He can give you something, for the pain."

Charles shook his head as well as was possible in his current condition. No. He didn't want medication that'd make his head even foggier. And honestly, he wasn't ready for more people.

He didn't want to cause another disappointment, not this soon after the first one.

He didn't want to see that heartbroken, shocked and betrayed look ever again. Especially before his head had decided whether or not it was going to detonate.

Obviously Erik didn't share his view. The man's eyes became even sharper than they were moments ago. "I'm not going to let you suffer. Alright?" Erik took a deep breath, then turned around although it seemed to require a lot of effort. "Get some rest, now. I'll come back to see you soon."

Watching the other's distancing back Charles felt this all consuming, desperate need to reach out. To call out. His mind was buzzing and fuming, with such intensity that he wasn't sure how much more he'd be able to take. But he lay still and quiet as a statue, stared when a door was closed between the two of them. It wasn't until he was all alone the tears finally filled his eyes.

What the hell happened to him? What was this Erik to him? Because all of a sudden it felt like his heart had been ripped right out.

(Was it even his own feeling at all?)

* * *

Outside the room Erik leaned heavily against the wall, one hand brought to his lips while he fought against the nausea swirling heavily inside of him. His whole body was shaking so hard that standing up was a struggle. No amount of Shaw's torture had managed to make him feel this beaten and defeated.

"Erik?" Raven's voice was slightly higher than usual. Her steps were slow while she approached him, her eyes wide. "Don't tell me that he crashed again…!"

Erik wasn't sure how to respond. How to explain that the man he just talked to… "He's… awake", he murmured in the end. He was quick to get a hold of Raven's wrist a second before she would've barged into the room. "But he's not… himself."

Raven frowned, darting a demanding look towards him. "What's that supposed to mean?" she barked out.

Erik swallowed, wondering what was the gentlest way to drop the bomb. "He doesn't remember, Raven. You, me, anything. And…" He glanced towards the door, another shiver crossing his whole body. "I tried to reach out towards him, several times. I didn't feel even the slightest brush of his mind. His powers… They've been wiped away."

Raven looked like someone had just punched her. Her skin turned colder under his fingertips. "What? But Hank said that…!"

"I know what he said. I was there", he snarled, not managing to regret his harsh tone. He gritted his teeth so hard that he could taste blood. "I'm going to talk to him. Maybe he can think of something that'd help Charles."

Raven nodded feebly, speechless and visibly shaken. Erik had never appreciated her fake form but at the moment he was glad that she chose it. The last thing Charles needed was a blue skinned girl walking into the room. He'd never seen her as scared as she was the second before she entered the room.

Erik himself didn't know what to feel. What to do with the guilt, anger and grief that were suffocating him. In that moment of confusion he did the only thing he knew. He left the mansion, unsure of when he'd come back.

* * *

Raven didn't know what she'd been expecting before entering Charles' room. Erik had, as per usual, been brutally honest when describing the situation. What she faced, however, wasn't even close to what she'd had in mind.

Charles was very pale and the bandage covering the nasty bullet cut gave her exactly the same chills she had on the day he was shot. But the professor wasn't horribly still in his bed anymore, eyes closed and looking an inch from death. He was up, albeit not quite steadily, and on his way towards one of the room's cabinets. His steps were weak and fumbling, like those of a child. And in the end his legs chose to give up on him. Raven reacted without a thought. It took her five steps to reach him and catch him.

Charles shivered slightly when his body leaned against her but didn't pull away. When the first shock passed he leaned slightly closer, clearly embarrassed but not troubled. Typical Charles, so trusting even though he had no idea of who his friends, family and enemies were.

"What the hell did you think you were doing?" Worry made Raven's voice a lot sharper than usual. She feared that she'd lose control over her powers under the mental onslaught. "You could've hurt yourself!"

"I'm sorry." Charles, at least, had the decency to sound sincere. "I was hoping to find something to wear, before walking out of this room." He gave something between a hiss and a moan of pain when she helped him rather clumsily to the side of the bed. After recovering for a few seconds, during which she held her breath, he gave her a feeble smile of gratitude. "Thank you, for your help. I'm afraid I overdid it."

_Well, some things never change… _Finally able to breathe properly Raven inhaled her lungs full, then let it out. She frowned upon observing how he lay down with a visible amount of discomfort he was desperately trying to hide. "It looks like that adventure will have to wait."

Charles said nothing to that, only looked at her for a long moment. Then sighed, looking away. There was a line of irritation on his forehead. "I… feel like I should know you."

Raven decided that there was no reason to tiptoe around it. She swallowed before spitting out the truth. "I'm Raven. Your sister." Then added as an afterthought. "Sort of."

Charles appeared confused by her answer. She couldn't really blame him. "Adopted?"

She shrugged. Close enough. "Something like that." She didn't like the way he was rubbing and poking his head. "Does it hurt?"

Charles attempted to smile but it looked more like a grimace. "Nothing I can't handle. I think Erik is going to force me to take something for it." He frowned for a second. "If he remembers to, after the shock I gave him."

Raven fought between grinning and rolling her eyes. She could understand Erik, though. "He… has a temper."

Charles gave a wry smile. His eyes wandered to the side. "So I noticed."

Looking towards the pointed direction Raven shuddered. A metallic candle stick that'd been sitting on a wooden desk had bent to a unnatural position. _Oh crap…_

Charles didn't appear shaken or upset, though. His expression was thoughtful, or perhaps sad, like there'd been something on his mind he couldn't quite grasp. "I'm… guessing that the people in this house aren't… well, exactly average humans." He looked at her, his eyes pleading for answers. "Am I… one of you?"

"We're mutants." It came out before she had the time to ponder over consequences. She could only hope that she wasn't making a huge mistake when adding the rest. "And yes, you're one of us. Your powers are just… a bit jammed, for now, because of the injury."

Charles nodded, looking away. For a moment he appeared scared and insecure. She'd never seen him that way before and it startled her. But the moment of weakness was over in a couple of blinks. His focus returned to her. "What's your power, then?"

Raven cleared her throat and squirmed, feeling very uncomfortable inside her own skin. Horrified, although she couldn't understand what she feared. Memories of their very first meeting filled her head. He was just a child back then. Would he be as open and understanding now? Wasn't her appearance what they'd been fighting over, the night before…? "I'll just show you later. When you've rested a little bit."

Charles frowned, his eyes still on her. Suddenly she missed feeling him inside of her head. Now she tried to find that same comfort from the feel of his hand in hers.

"Have I… hurt you, somehow? Before the injury." There was a brand new fear in his eyes. "You shouldn't have to be afraid of being yourself in front of your own brother."

Raven swallowed, trying to erase the lump that'd appeared to her throat. Was it this horrifying the last time? It was such a long time ago. "I… I don't want you to panic, okay? Erik's going to kill me if you panic."

Charles nodded slowly, a hint of alarm in his eyes. He didn't need his skills to detect some of her terror. "Show me", he asked her softly. So she did.

Allowed him to see _all_ of her. The blue skin. Red hair. Yellow eyes. And then all she could do was wait, her heart thumping close to her throat. Ready to bolt out of the room.

For a while Charles stared, clearly not quite believing his eyes. But he didn't look scared. Slowly yet surely a tiny smile rose to his face. Like a puzzle piece had clicked to place. "Amazing", he breathed out.

It was Raven's turn to stare. She could barely breathe from the surge that'd taken over all of her mind and body. "Are you serious?" she finally managed.

The hand around hers tightened, squeezed affectionally. There was no lie in the blue eyes looking directly at hers. "Of course I am", he swore with utmost certainty. "I… I don't remember you, but… You look perfect, Raven. Just like that."

Raven had never been a overly emotional person. Heck, she couldn't remember the last time she cried. But at that moment, with his words washing over her, she couldn't control herself. Tears welled into her eyes and spilled.

She'd been such an idiot.

Charles frowned, worry loud and clear in his eyes. "Raven, what's wrong?"

She was in no condition to speak. All that came out of her was a slightly hysterical mixture of a bitter chuckle and a lot of sobbing. The damns had been broken and she couldn't pull them up, not even for his sake.

Slowly, with a amount of discomfort she didn't even want to guess, Charles sat up properly and wrapped both arms gently around her. He held on tight, although he had no idea of who she was. No idea of what she'd thought about him once, how ready she'd been to abandon him. "Shh…", he whispered, his voice far from steady. "Shh… It's alright. Everything's alright."

Clinging to him as though for dear life Raven kept crying helplessly, like a little girl seeking comfort from a parent. Cried from the bottom of her heart and soul, unleashing years and years of loneliness, insecurity and self hatred. Feelings that'd began to form long before she ever met Charles. While she'd always demanded that everyone should accept her for who she was she, herself, had been so scared that she'd almost lost herself. But Charles… He'd always accepted her, hadn't he? He gave her a home and company, protected her even from herself. Charles _was_ her brother, even through all her quirks and tantrums. And she really needed him now.

Raven was willing to do absolutely anything to get her brother back.

_Anything_.

* * *

Erik came back so late that he didn't expect anyone else to be awake. That's why he was surprised to see a pale beam of light coming from one of the studies. Curious and more than a little bit alarmed he approached, preparing himself for anything. What he found wasn't an intruder. It was something much more worrying.

Apparently Charles had finally managed to get himself out of the bed. The telepath, who looked ready to keel over any given moment, had slumped heavily to a huge armchair. There was a huge glass of most likely strong drink in the professor's not quite steady hold.

Erik fought back a groan. _Splendid…_ It took all his willpower not to march over and grab the drink away but he figured that Charles had already received too many surprise blows for one day. "Are you sure that it's a good idea to drink with a injury like yours?"

Charles waved a hand. The telepath was either too drunk or worked up to be embarrassed over being caught like this. Neither option sounded very healthy or good. "I'm perfectly fine. My head… feels better now, actually."

Erik shivered, feeling a massive stab of worry. "That's exactly what I'm worried about." He'd kept an eye on Charles' drinking habits even before Cuba, because no one had the kind of a alcohol tolerance the telepath did without a lot of experience. He'd had a inkling feeling that this problem might rise sooner or later.

Charles, of course, didn't snarl at him. The professor's eyes were sharp, though. Sharp and full of unshed tears. "Not now, Erik. Please? Not now." The younger man's chuckle wasn't exactly dry. It wasn't until then he noticed just how badly the telepath's hand shook. "I… I'm terrified. And frustrated." A pale hand flew to injured head and Erik wondered just how badly it hurt. "I can't… I can't remember my own sister, when she's crying in my arms. I can't even remember my own name." There were some tears in those badly lost blue eyes but none spilled. "My past, my whole identity… They're nothing but a black hole. What if none of that comes back?" The professor's whole form was shaking. "What if I can never be myself again? If I can't be that person you need me to be?"

Erik shivered, deeply shaken. He'd seen Charles drunk before but not like this. Never like this. He didn't have the slightest clue of what to do. That's why he started with the most logical part. "Charles… Put that glass away, alright? You drinking yourself into oblivion won't do your head any good. Or any of us, for the matter." Sure, putting Charles through a guilt trip was a low blow, but if that was what it took…

Slowly, slowly Charles put the drink down, a slightly dazed look in his moist eyes. For a moment the man stared into nothing until those eyes found him. "I'm sorry." The tone of a voice was lost. And broken. Full of guilt that shouldn't have been there.

There, with the glass out of the way, Erik finally had the chance he needed to think properly. His head buzzed and spun while he stared at the lost, pained and drunken telepath. Little by little his thoughts began to float.

A flash of Charles' eyes after Shaw had been taken care of mixed with those he'd faced when they first met in the waves. '_… between rage and serenity…_' blended together with the telepath's desperate pleas when he turned the missiles. Charles telling him how much good he saw in Erik became tainted by the ever present glimpse of the professor's agonized mental cries only moments before the bullet was already on its way. He hadn't realized just how roughly he'd been pushing Charles away until the telepath attacked him in Cuba.

/ _"You're not alone, Erik. You're not alone."_ /

_So why did you give up on me? Didn't we want the same thing? _"It's going to be alright", he murmured in a voice that didn't sound like his. "It's going to be alright. I promise. I'll help you figure out everything."

* * *

TBC

* * *

A/N: Oh dear… Why doesn't Erik as he is introducing the world to Charles sound like a good thing? (winces) Those poor things, they're all so confused and aching.

Soooo… (gulps nervously) Was that any good in your book? At all? PLEASE, do leave a note and let me know! Awww, c'mon, by now you've gotta know how warm and fuzzy hearing from you makes me feel.

Until next time! I really hope that I'll see you all then.

Take care!


	3. Splitting in Two

A/N: I'm so sorry that I'm a day late but this chapter turned out to be a problem child. Upon reading it you may understand why – this wasn't easy to write. (winces)

BUT, before I give away too much… THANK YOU, from the bottom of my heart, for all your love and support! (GLOMPS) It seriously makes my heart sing with joy. So thank you!

Awkay… I'm barely awake as I'm typing this. So, let's get going! I REALLY hope that this turns out worth the wait.

* * *

Splitting in Two

* * *

The world that unfolded around Charles during the following seven weeks was a rather disturbing place. The rest of the mansion's… _exceptional_ inhabitants he felt comfortable with instantly, not being able to remember a bloody thing about them be damned. It seemed that being around and getting along with people was something that came out naturally for him. But they were also the biggest reason why his headaches were a constant nuisance. Everyone was tiptoeing around him and whenever he expressed even the slightest bit of discomfort they all stiffened and the tension became almost thick enough to suffocate him. Everyone was whispering. Keeping secrets. And there was an aura of malice that sometimes made him feel like there'd been ice going through his veins. Like the tiny group, which tried so very hard to look like a family for him, had been torn in two. Charles would've given a lot if he'd known just what caused such a rift. If he'd found some magic cure that would've made things right.

The worst part, however, was that he could see all too clearly how much they all would've needed something out of him. How desperately they would've wanted him to be something that he just couldn't be, not with his whole identity wiped away. They missed _him_, the _real_ him, terribly. It killed him inside to see day after day all those disappoinments he caused on those who were, quite literally, his whole damn world.

So Charles did what came to him instinctively. He pushed himself. Mind, body and soul. He spent time with them, hoping from the bottom of his heart that it wasn't as painful for them as it was for him. Kept an eye on them. Protected them against a threat he couldn't understand, against something that wasn't even spoken out. In a way it was sad that with the lack of something more real they relied on his fumbling support, held on to whatever they got. He supposed that he was doing the same thing.

Physical recovery was the easiest part. He could live with the headaches – it seemed to him that they were something he'd dealt with quite a lot before… the incident, as Erik called it. As weeks wore on his fatigue and dizziness began to ease. Walking wasn't a mighty battle. He began to regain control over his body. It felt amazing, exhilarating, to have control over at least over something. It gave him hope.

And good grief, he was in a desperate need of hope.

Nightmares were Charles' frequent companions, which was bizarre considering that his mind had no ties with the memories that came haunting him during the darkest hours of the night. It spoke volumes of just how deep the scars that spewed out those horror images lay.

One particular night it was Erik killing him. Because what else would've caused the kind of agony he was in? His brain… splitting in two, literally… Hard, ice cold, uncompromising metal making its way through without a hint of mercy. He screamed – screamed, screamed, _screamed_. Begged and pleaded. The agony refused to end.

'_I'm sorry, Charles._'

Then, with absolute certainty, he felt a mind's death.

Charles woke up to his own strangled scream, his head pounding like it'd been still splitting in half. Clumsily, shaking to the very core of his being, he pushed himself out of the bed and trotted downstairs without the slightest clue of what he was headed for. Although there was cold sweat on his skin he felt like he'd been burned up alive.

Charles might've ended up anywhere if he hadn't noticed a frail beam of light. He blinked with surprise. He wasn't the only with trouble sleeping, then. Without a doubt he headed towards the light, his steps heavier than they'd been for the past two or three weeks.

He was surprised to find Hank with a mug of tea. Somehow he'd always imagined that the scientist was the deepest sleeper amongst his young proteges. The look on the blue furred mutant's face stung him even worse than the far away look in those eyes. He approached without any hesitation. "Evening." His voice was lighter than he'd expected. "Do you happen to have any more tea?"

Hank blinked. Surprised. Startled, perhaps. Charles wished that he would've been able to tell. Even without the capability to read minds he could, however, deduce that his company made the scientist nervous. "I… guess." Charles felt eyes on him upon passing by and filling his own mug. Since he woke up there'd always been eyes following him and he didn't know what to think about it. It wasn't until he sat Hank spoke again. "Are you alright? Are the headaches…?"

Charles drifted between the urges to smile, scream at the top of his lungs and roll his eyes. In the end he took a deep breath, calming his confused mind. He was fairly experienced with the fine art of self control, it seemed. For some reason that fact bothered him. He interrupted the furred mutant as gently as possible. "They're manageable. I'm fine." Well, he was alive. That was a good start in his book. He took a sip of the tea. It was strong and bitter but somehow the taste swirled pleasantly on his tongue. Perhaps this was a better alternative compared to what he had in mind. "But thank you, for asking." This time it was his turn to observe. As far as it was possible to tell Hank looked exhausted – old beyond his still few years. Shaken, lost. The very sight pained him. "I am, however, not the only one sitting here at this ridiculous hour."

Hank shivered at the question lingering heavily in the air. Those eyes looked away, something close to embarrassment in them. "It's just… Sean, Alex and I, we've been sleeping… a bit restlessly, lately."

Charles felt a sharp twinge in his chest. Those eyes… He would've done pretty much anything to chase away that haunted look. "Do you want to talk about it?" was all he coul manage in his current condition. And it made him want to scream.

Hank shook his head, looking a little bit less tense all of a sudden. A little less lost. "No, thank you. Just… Can we sit here, for a little bit?"

So that's what it was all about. Charles couldn't be the person Hank and the others would've needed yet. But if him just being present, even like this, was enough… The corners of his lips twitched upwards. "Of course."

Well, at least he'd succeeded in doing something right. Hank smiled. "Thank you, Professor."

That pet name… It sounded almost familiar. An actual smile of his own appeared.

They sat in a comfortable silence, watching how sun appeared slowly, lazily. The world hadn't righted itself in overnight. But somehow it felt just a little bit less terrifying.

* * *

Much later that evening Erik, who'd just returned from a yet another long walk, found Charles from the professor's favorite study. There was a look of deep concentration, even some droplets of sweat, on the telepath's forehead and a far away look in those impossibly blue eyes. Erik's eyes were quick to spot the bottle of wine on a nearby table. It hadn't been touched.

Relaxing marginally, Erik folded his arms and leaned against the doorframe. "May I ask what, exactly, you're doing?"

Charles shivered slightly, then cast a sheepish look towards him. "I… Since you told me that I used to be a telepath I've been… trying to reach out, I suppose. To hear. I'm sort of hoping that if I'd get my powers activated it'd help my memory as well."

Erik shivered. The thought of getting back the person who meant the world to him and who chose such a different path from his was equally exciting and terrifying. "Have you… heard anything yet, then?"

A look of dismay swept across Charles' face and in an instant he regretted ever asking. There was a grimace the professor couldn't hide. "I'm afraid that I've been pushing myself", the telepath admitted quietly. Seeing his look of worry the man attempted to smile. "Don't worry, it's just a little headache, that's all."

Erik knew that he'd been pushing Charles during the past weeks. Encouraging these ridiculous, obviously exhausting 'sessions'. Constantly asking if there'd been _anything_. Telling stories about the regrettably brief time they had together. He'd been pushing although he saw, loud and clear, how hard Charles tried. Perhaps it was time to stop, for at least for a moment.

Before the call of that bottle would take over.

And so Erik did something extremely un-Magneto-like. He outstretched a hand towards his dearest person. Asking for so much more than any words could've ever expressed. Exposing himself further than ever before in his life, even when letting Charles dig out the memory of his mother. "Trust me", he asked, although he knew he had no right. "Let go. Just for a little while."

And trust Charles did. Just like always, every single time, no matter how much pain and sorrow it brought. The hand taking his was warm and familiar. The same that'd kept him from sinking into the waves. He also knew that smile.

/ _"You're not alone, Erik."_ /

For a moment, just a moment, he was with the Charles he knew once more.

And for a moment Erik didn't feel like he was all alone in the world anymore.

Charles was baffled when he led the telepath into the professor's very own bedroom. Confused blue eyes swept towards him. "Erik, what…?"

"I know that you haven't been sleeping." Erik wasn't asking. He saw those worrying black circles around Charles' eyes. He'd noticed how the man's bed always looked like no one had ever slept in it. "You need rest, and… I don't know." All of a sudden he felt stupid. Humiliated. What the hell had he been thinking? "I just thought that maybe I can help you get some sleep. It'd help with your head."

Charles stared at him for a moment, three, five, eight. Then, very slowly, a new smile appeared. "You don't need to do this", the professor pointed out.

_After sending that bullet at your head, I think that this is the least I could do._ Erik swallowed, unable to erase the bitter taste sitting in his mouth. "I know." His tone wasn't as harsh and dejected as he'd hoped. "But I want to."

No more words were needed. That was one of the many reasons why he felt so close to Charles. With the telepath other things than spoken words were much more important. Neither of them noticed that their hands were entwined when they lay down, much closer to each other than would've been acutely necessary.

It took a long time. Perhaps close to two hours. At first they were both a little bit tense and awkward, unsure of how they were supposed to proceed. How close they could be without crossing boundaries. But then Charles' breathing evened out and the stiff body against Erik's relaxed completely as the telepath trusted himself completely into his hands.

For a mighty moment Erik remained completely frozen, wondering what in the world one was supposed to do in such a situation. Slowly, noticing that the touches helped Charles relax further, he rubbed the telepath's shoulder with his thumb. And then, finding even more courage, he did the last thing he'd anticipated. He pressed a tiny, soft kiss to the scar marring Charles' head. Right there, with that one simple gesture, Erik spoke what he could've never voiced.

_Please, come back._

* * *

As much as Charles enjoyed the peace of that evening, from the very beginning he had a distinct feeling that it was nothing more than an illusion. That the gentle touch he'd felt, the comfort, were about to fade away like a sweet dream. It took a week before he was, quite painfully, proven to have presumed correctly.

About half an hour after a rather chilly breakfast Charles came to a conclusion that there was something severely wrong between Hank and Raven. Such bad air couldn't exist in a house like theirs, in such a closed up community that only had one another to rely on. When neither was willing to answer honestly the painfully powerless telepath was forced to result to the next best thing. He was on his way to ask Alex what in the world was going on when he heard Sean's voice. " _… on the roof when I heard Moira walk right in. She went to one of the studies with Erik._"

"_How the hell did she get in without Erik killing her?_" Hank blurted out. There was a mixture of resentment, worry and surprise in the young mutant's voice.

"_I don't know. But whatever it was, I doubt that it's good news._"

A deep frown on his face Charles decided that the cold war between Hank and Raven could wait. This sounded like a much more urgent matter. Since this bizarre new life of his began Moira had been a strictly forbidden topic. He'd been told that she was once an ally. The positively homicidal look in Erik's eyes at the mere mention of her spoke volumes. The memory of that expression was enough to make him quicken his steps.

He heard the snarling voices long before he reached his destination. " _… the hell are you doing here? I thought that I made it perfectly clear that I don't want you anywhere near this mansion after what you did._"

A woman, Moira, snorted. "_I wasn't the one who directed that bullet, was I? But I didn't come to waste time on arguing._" There was a frosty pause. "_Emma Frost escaped yesterday. We believe that she had help._"

There was a bizarre shiver in the air. "_So she's with Shaw's men?_"

Charles' heart skipped a beat. He knew exactly who Shaw was – Erik had told a lot of tales. He knew what the man and his minions had done.

"_So what are you doing here?_" Erik's tone of a voice was a warning.

"_You know damn well what I'm doing here._" Moira's voice was venomous. "_You're not even nearly as invisible as you'd like to think. You and Raven were spotted. Someone reported. You've had meetings with Azazel. I came here because for the sake of Charles and the kids I'm praying that you're not planning on starting a war._"

"_Wake up, Moira._" Erik wasn't even trying to deny anything. "_The war began when your kind turned their missiles against us. Tried to exterminate us. For us this isn't war – this is survival. It's high time Charles and the others open their eyes for the truth. This is their battle as well._"

Charles felt sick to his stomach and suddenly it was hard to fight the temptation to just slump to the floor. All air was smacked from his lungs by the weight of the realization. By the power of all the _hurt_.

Suddenly he couldn't contain the rage anymore. He barged into the room, startling the two, and bellowed with all his might. "I am not letting you rage war, Erik! Not here! Not in this house! I'm not letting you shed their blood!" Hollering like that felt foreign to Charles but he couldn't help himself. The need to protect those youngsters – mere children, no matter what Erik said – overpowered everything else. His blood and eyes blazed. "They trusted their safety, their lives, into our hands! It sounds like they've gone through hell yet they've chosen to stay!"

They both stared at him like they'd seen a ghost. The stun didn't last for long. Erik nodded, equal flames in those suddenly very dangerous depths. The metal bender's whole demeanor changed and there was a faint screech as the powers slipped out of control. "Yes, they did! Because they believe that we can give them something that's worth fighting for!"

"Don't you understand what you're doing?" For the first time since he woke up that name sounded hard as steel as it rolled over his tongue. "You're sending them to a war! You're sending children to fight a war that they can't possibly win! To their deaths!"

Erik's shake of a head was resolute, uncompromising. "No. Not if we'd strike fast and hard enough, with a little bit help. They'd never even see it coming. Trust me. I've seen our kind bring a CIA compound to its knees. We'd make sure that they'd never come after us again."

Charles shook his head, hating how moist his eyes felt. Terror, rage and irritation were tightening around his throat like a rope. "They'd never leave us alone! Why can't you see that? There'd be new ones coming after us, until there'd be nothing left of us! Of those we've sworn to protect! There'd be no future for us!"

Erik lifted his chin. "You're wrong, Charles! We could bring down each and every single one of them!"

Charles was shaking by then. The headache was bad enough to make him want to scream so he did. "I refuse to believe that the only way to peace is through the blood of the innocent!"

Erik snorted bitterly. One eyebrow bounced up, twitching. "Have you taken a look at that scar on your head? That's what they caused you. Are you honestly calling them innocent?"

Charles was tired, rattled and so disappointed that he found it hard to breathe. A somewhat bitter half smile made its way to his lips. "I… I don't remember my past, but… I know the dreams I've been having." Their eyes locked and held. "Are you telling me that anyone of us is truly innocent? Any human or mutant?"

Once again Charles could practically feel the eyes on him as he began to walk away. This was the first time they made his stomach flip upside down with nausea. "Charles!" Moira called out, worry loud and clear in her voice.

"I… I need time. Away." Charles panted, his legs shaking as he finally made it to the door. Close to safety. "Just… Just give me some bloody time. Before I do something I'd regret."

Already out of the room he heard Erik's voice echoing in his head. "What does it take to make you understand? Peace… was never an option."

Charles slammed the door upon leaving, as loudly as he could. It didn't succeed in making him feel any better. Any less wounded – by Erik, Moira, humans, he honestly couldn't tell.

(What all three of them failed to notice in their emotional turmoil was that Erik's lips had never moved with the final sentence.)

Charles didn't know what led him. Some sort of a inner voice, perhaps. But he found himself from a tiny, dusty wine cellar that looked like it hadn't been touched in years. He slumped down, absolutely all the strength leaving him, and only the half a fist stuffed into his mouth kept him from screaming at the top of his lungs. By then the pain was everywhere, gnawed his very insides.

So this… This was the only reason why Erik wanted to help him. Why the metal bender wanted him to find himself, his powers. So that he could be used as a weapon of war. Charles honestly couldn't tell which realization cut the deepest. That he meant so very little to Erik. That he'd been used in such a way. Or that look in Erik's eyes – the one that said, loudly and clearly, that very soon Erik would be leaving him behind.

Somehow Charles would've found it more merciful if Erik had just honestly abandoned him to the beach to bleed.

* * *

TBC

* * *

A/N: So okay… I think that everyone but Charles saw this coming. Erik was raging a war, after all. That anger… The bullet hitting Charles didn't magically make it disappear. So, he's kept working behind Charles' back. And now we're here. (winces) How in the world are those two ever going to get through THIS?

PLEASE, leave a review before you go! It'd mean more to me than you could ever imagine. So… Pwease…?

It's getting really late and I have a insanely early morning tomorrow. I guess I just don't do something a mundane as sleeping. (groans) Until next time, ya all! I really hope that you'll all stay tuned until then.

Take care!

* * *

**sjl**: Awww, you're making me feel EXTREMELY flattered, my friend! (beams and hugs)

(chuckles) What can I say? My head's a CHAOS. The more stories I have the easier I find it to maintain focus on them. I know, insane! (shakes head at oneself)

HUGE thank yous for the review! C ya soon, I hope.

* * *

**Guest**: 'Fun' is one way to describe it. (grins) I really hope that you'll enjoy the next one as well!

Massive thank yous for the review!


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